


Savor the Reflection

by ForeverEvan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Pregnant Ginny Weasley, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 19:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18146321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverEvan/pseuds/ForeverEvan
Summary: Chapter 1: Mirror, Mirror on the WallOn the Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, Ginny is secretly mortified when Harry is presented with a gift from the Ministry of Magic. This gift shows her the truth about what she desires, even when she doesn’t want to admit it.





	1. Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DBQ2019Round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2019Round1) collection. 



> This story was written for The Slytherin Cabal Facebook Group's Death by Quill 2019 competition. I give mad props to my wonderful Beta, who I credit for keeping my grammar and plot on point. And of course, the magical wizarding world belongs to JK Rowling, who allows us to create our own stories from our own imaginations.
> 
> I appreciate you taking the time to read this story, and I hope you enjoy!

Ginny sat uncomfortably at the supper table, trying to shift her weight from side to side on the too thin cushion, hoping in vain to find some comfort from the hard chair below. One hand rested gently on her growing belly, the child inside giving lazy kicks as they ran out of space – each passing day, another day closer to when she would be rid of the tiny terror using her bladder as a trampoline – at least from the inside. This child was different, and Ginny was nearly certain it would be a redheaded girl sent to pay her back for every gray hair she gave her own mum. Albus was napping, and James was munching some carrots Granny Molly had sent from the garden at the Burrow. 

 

“Mummy, can I go outside?” James whined, dropping a half-eaten carrot into his wooden bowl.

 

“Off to the loo, and don’t forget to wash your hands first, Sir,” Ginny reminded, reaching over to sweep his dark bangs to the side of his forehead. But then, she forced her face into a stern look. “And I will skin you alive if you wake Albus."

 

James answered in muted squeals of glee before he was off, preferring these days to escape arm’s reach before Ginny could stand.

 

She took her time, leaning forward until her legs caught her weight and she forced herself to stand, grabbing James’ discarded leftovers before making her way into the kitchen of their country home. Harry was working as an Auror, and likely would not be home until she was long asleep. Ginny usually worked at the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Mysteries, but her child-growing had entered the stage where she was a danger to her coworkers in both temperament and needing to share tight spaces, and thus she was on leave to enjoy nesting before the newest Potter child arrived.

 

After sorting out the dishes and cleaning up the mess, Ginny shuffled to the living room. She aimed her wand at the fireplace and silently shot off the Incendio spell to warm the space before moving her favorite armchair to face the large bay area window. James was in his chunky knit Weasley sweater, playing with his big dump truck in the dirt. The scene was so serene, it felt like a dream.

 

In the peaceful lull of the afternoon, Ginny lost her focus. Just for a moment, it didn’t take long. Her eyes wandered along the walls to see moving memories of her life after Hogwarts. Marrying Harry, Ron and Hermione’s wedding, Fred’s memorial, several photos of her children … dirty faces, rumpled hair and smiles that made it feel perfect. 

 

Until she saw … it. The one item that had caused many arguments, but had to be in her home. It meant so much to Harry, and Ginny could not argue. By having it hang there, he could see his family and everything she had… and he did not.

 

The large blemish was on the wall, nestled in between her own happy memories. Large, imposing and with a frame so ugly it could be spotted from space. “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi,” Ginny spoke aloud, eyeing the Mirror of Erised. They got stuck with it in some sort of ceremony after Hogwarts reopened, after the battle where Voldemort fell. If only the damned thing would have been shattered, she thought miserably, this mirror wouldn’t remind her that when she looked into it, Harry was not the object of her desire. Neither could she have him, the ghost who appeared to haunt her in the living room whenever her eyes dared wander. He was dead, as reports said, after an unfortunate attack on the family home. Remains obliterated, leaving only an empty grave marked by a solemn stone she could perhaps visit someday.

 

Ginny watched the mirror for long time, comfortably out of range of sight, before deciding to give into her morbid curiosity. Part of her craved that her husband would finally appear, replacing the silent shame she spoke not a word of to anyone on every other instance Ginny had braved to stare down the mirror in a face-to-face duel of the mind.

 

Squaring her shoulders and standing solidly on the hardwood floor, Ginny lifted her gaze to the clear surface of the mirror. For a moment, all she saw was herself, draped in her favorite nightgown. Unlike now, the home was more cool stone than warm wood. From behind on either side, two hands reached around to support her growing belly in the mirror. The child inside kicked furiously, reacting to the stirring of emotions that rolled over Ginny in waves. Almost instinctively, her hands covered where his would be, holding imaginary him there as she longed to lean back into his chest. She inhaled, scandalously savoring the image of being enveloped in safety and comfort.

 

Another moment slipped away in peace, before she watched his blonde head lean down to the crook of her neck. Lips caressed her exposed skin, burning a trail to her jawline. Even though Ginny was watching, goosebumps betrayed her augmented reality as she imagined the feeling. Breathing was getting harder, both from the baby inside and from the rush of arousal. 

 

And then, the blonde man abandoned his caressing kisses as quickly as they began. He looked up, eyes burning into hers through his perfect reflection, a devilish grin covering his face as his right hand slid down her abdomen and leg until his fingertips found the hem of her nightgown. In an achingly slow motion, he moved his fingers up until he had a grip on the silky fabric, he lifted up to expose her leg and hip, high enough for his hand to slip underneath.

 

Ginny had never watched this long before. And now, she couldn’t pull herself away. She did not need to feel herself to feel the heat radiating from between her legs, body aching for his scalding and forbidden touch. His hand in the mirror began a slow caressing motion, before letting the fabric slide back down around his wrist as his fingers danced underneath her panties, finding the passion void and playing to the parts of her soul she knew Harry, in all of his ever present goodness, would never satisfy. Draco’s fingers sliding inside of her, feeling the dampness and using it to work into a rhythm, made her feel flush. Ginny reached out, gripping the arm of the nearest sofa to sturdy herself.

 

“You know, it’s hard to believe the mirror is enchanted when I get to see the object of my desire every day,” Harry’s voice cut through her fantasy. 

 

And just like that, Ginny snapped back to reality. She turned, sheepishly grinning and sliding into the sofa she had just a second ago been using to prevent falling over in ecstacy. Harry was home early, holding a bouquet of fresh lilies wrapped in brown paper and a bow. She took the bouquet, and made a show of smelling it to give her cheeks more time to return to their normal color. 

 

“I love it when you surprise me, Harry,” she murmured, awkwardly fixating on the doorway as little James came running in.

 

“Daddy! Daddy, look!” he squealed, running in to show Harry the new stones he had found in the garden. Ginny smiled, and nodded when she caught Harry eyeing her. Anything to put off the guilt of not being able to see him in the Mirror of Erised.


	2. Scry me a Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: Scry me a Secret
> 
> With great power comes great responsibility - including setting aside personal emotions - when it comes to catching the world’s most notable serial killer. Setting the trap to catch the mouse won’t work without the cheese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter to my Death by Quill 2019 competition piece. Another thanks to my fabulous (and anonymous) Beta, who as always ensures my ideas translate well to the screen. This world is owned by JK Rowling, I just dabble here for fun!

Ginny, back at work less than a month after her ample time off from having Lily and already on the case of wizards showing up dead all across Europe, wrinkled her nose in frustration. “There has to be more of a connection than these guys were all Death Eaters, Abbot,” she protested, letting the report fall a little too forcefully from her hands after reviewing it.

“But that is literally it,” Hannah replied, her voice as frustrated as Ginny’s. “I’ve told the Minister we need more help on this, but Granger is a bit busy at the moment.”

Ginny huffed a non-response. She, along with Harry and Ron, were wrapped up in some sort of Time Turner debacle and did not seem to care about the bodies showing up in droves. They did not seem to warrant the same resources and attention as whatever else the trio were getting into, and quite frankly, Ginny was sick of it. She was working just as many hours, with the added responsibility of raising her family with an absent husband who ran off at any chance he got. 

“I know,” Hannah responded. “But listen - what if we used some of the other old divination tactics, and actually tried to find the killer here instead of assisting with star chart leads.”

“Like what?” Ginny asked, honestly surprised. Their department had a rather strict way of doing things, and if it cost money, they were likely not going to get funding or approval. Ginny hadn’t wasted her time in divination class while at Hogwarts based off of Hermione’s candid feedback, but she had to say, Hannah Abbott was not a fool. She may not have known the younger witch’s class itinerary, but oversight aside, Ginny thought she knew where this was going. “Do you mean to tell me you want to have a seance? Or maybe even search the sky for clues?”

Hannah chuckled. “The dead were not cooperative whilst breathing, I am not under the impression that several charming personalities may have changed sans air. But I was thinking … we have a lot of possibly tainted evidence here. What if we try scrying magic?”

Ginny paused, leaning back in her chair to consider. “It’s not sanctioned.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Hannah countered.

***

An hour later, and both women were sitting cross-legged on the floor, a mirror in between them. Objects from each murder were spread out between them forming a circle. Ginny held a crystal, and Hannah her wand.

“So, all I have to do is concentrate on the objects and stare into a mirror?” Ginny asked, her voice dripping with the opulent tones of the highest skepticism. 

“That’s it!” Hannah ignored her, grinning. “I will handle the spellwork side, but you have the most familiarity with the suspects. If this works, you may be able to see snippets of one of the murders. Just make sure to get a good look at whomever is killing the Death Eaters.”

“Are you sure you want to stop whoever is taking out the rubbish?” Ginny muttered, but as instructed, held the crystal tied to a ribbon over the smooth mirror surface, watching the light reflect dancing colored streaks on the cool surface.

She felt a cool breeze wash over her, the tingling tell-tale sensation of magic prickling her skin as the spell filled the air. Ginny concentrated for all she was worth on the objects left behind: Rowle’s shoe, Greyback’s journal and so many other tokens from the list of former Voldemort followers. Ginny felt the waves of magic growing stronger with each passing moment, rippling the stillness in the space around them, until she felt consumed by the glass radiating as it yielded to the magic.

Time passed slowly, and what seemed like hours was really only minutes, Ginny straightened. She shook her head, as if clearing her thoughts. Hannah’s excitement was palpable though, and the other witch found herself unable to wait. “Well?!” she demanded, reaching out to touch Ginny’s arm. Ginny was pale, as if she had seen a ghost, but kept tight-lipped.

After all, how could she tell Hannah she had seen a ghost?

“Nothing, I’m afraid,” Ginny relented. “I will clean up. You better get back to the others and brainstorm new ideas. I like the way your mind works, Abbott.”

***

It only took minutes for Ginny to arrange her kids to stay longer with Granny Molly and Gramps Arthur, who both spoiled the children faster than milk in the sunshine on a summer day. Harry was twelve shades in the wind; Ginny was sure he hadn’t been home all week, so when she Flooed home, she wasn’t surprised at the silence. 

As soon as she arrived, she turned her fireplace off of the Floo network for a little privacy. After removing the one item, a satchel of rubble from Malfoy Manor, she made her way back to the Mirror of Erised. Cupping the rubble in her hands, she waited for the pale ghost to show up in the reflection. The ghost she lied about not seeing when watching the murders, over and over again. Each one done by the same hands that made her ache with longing.

“Draco,” her voice cracked, with both emotions and nerves, realizing talking to a mirror would be considered absolutely mental under any other circumstances. “Show me where you are …”


	3. Her Shattered Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: Shattered Fantasy
> 
> Hot on the trail of Draco Malfoy, Ginny finds herself unable to stop the events that have transpired from changing her reality. The end has come, and with it, a very permanent solution to the Wizarding world’s biggest “bad boy” problem since Voldemort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter to my Death by Quill 2019 piece. Again, thank you to my amazing Beta, and to JK Rowling for allowing us to write in the world she has created.

Ginny apparated to the ruins of Malfoy Manor almost immediately once the mirror had shown her Draco’s location, heart pounding. She had no idea why she was so nervous - it wasn’t like she was hot on the trails of solving a murder case, or anything. Or the possibility of finding Draco alive was making her consider all the possibilities from the mirror.

“Malfoy?” Ginny called out, stepping inside. The floors were covered in rubble and debris, the walls only mostly there. The ceiling and second floor were completely missing. Ginny had only been here once before, right after Draco and Narcissa were murdered. Lucius had since moved to Spain, and rumor had it he had retired to the beach.

Her shoes made sounds that echoed in the dusk air, clacking through the silence. Everything was still, not even a hint of movement or magic in the air. Ginny could usually feel it, like it was a part of her. It’s how she picked up on spellwork so fast, and gained notoriety for investigations in her department and working behind the scenes to deliver justice. It was the dream- except the more Harry was off with his friends, the more the promise of passion and lust made her feel she wanted it all, the more that existed with Draco in the mirror.

She rounded the corner and went down to the place where a tarnished desk sat, the remains of chairs scattered around in pieces. Ginny was starting to be angry. Why was he hiding, least of all places right here? The home wasn’t livable, not even by the most meager of means. What’s worse, the floor looked completely undisturbed as nature began to take the home over. Dust, growing plants in specific cracks … The whole place was no longer the imposing building where so much horror happened, but instead the ruin that once was.

Ginny waited, pacing around the room for as long as it took for the sun to begin setting, casting long and erie shadows on the walls and floor. Her mind kept wondering… why wasn’t Draco here? Why couldn’t she hear him moving, or see him? Was he waiting to be sure she was alone?

She paced. She waited. She fumed. And finally, she broke.

Ginny realized Draco wasn’t coming.

When she pulled her eyes away from the Mirror of Erised, tears were streaming down her cheeks. She had lost herself, and Ginny knew it, delusionally thinking that Draco was alive and well. That he was somehow not the first of several victims, but he was bringing justice to everyone. But she realized quickly that this was all in her mind, as the tendrils of her hormone-filled fantasies had made her believe her desires were a reality. 

The scrying session had actually happened, Ginny realized, as she let the bag of rubble fall from her hands. But the Draco in the mirror wasn’t for real. He existed only to show her what her desires were in that moment, and it was to feel everything her husband had been incapable of inspiring her to feel for far too long, and her mind had been left to wander.

Ginny looked around the room, and found the heaviest thing she could - a brass candlestick from her parents’ home. With all the anger in her heart, she swung it over her head, bringing the base down in a heavy arc until it made contact with the Mirror of Erised. The glass spiderwebbed out as the force of the blow released the magic inside, bringing raining glass with it.

“Gin?” Harry’s voice cut through the silence. His expression was cold and guarded, eyeing her with cautious concern. 

Guilt for feeling like she had been cheating on her husband with the fantasy brought to life from the now destroyed mirror, realizing she looked crazy, Ginny dropped the candlestick.

“Harry, I … I can explain …” Ginny swallowed. Then she let out her held breath in shaking sobs. “Actually, no. No, I can’t.”

Harry’s face softened, and he walked to his wife, pulling her into his arms. She sobbed into his shirt, and he held on till her breath was still and her shaking had subsided. “Gin, I know I’ve been working way too much. I… shouldn’t have left so much on your plate.”

“Harry, it’s fine, it’s…” she began, but he just squeezed tighter.

“I promise, Gin, no more getting the second best of me,” Harry reassured her. “I want to help you, love. Please. If you’ll let me.”

She let out another shaking breath, nodding yes as her arms wrapped around his waist to hold him back. “Of course, Harry. I love you.”

“I love you too, Gin. And I want to fix this.”

“We will, Harry,” Ginny promised. “Together, this time.”

Harry chuckled, sounding so much like the pre-war version of himself. “Of course.”

The guilt of knowing he thought she smashed the mirror over anger at him made Hermione feel completely inadequate to be the wife of Harry Potter. But just as any finale went, Ginny knew this was the moment she could recommit herself to her husband and children, letting Draco’s secret memory be just that- a dream.


End file.
